Distracting Drabbles
by tsuki-llama
Summary: Collection of drabbles, mostly Hei/Misaki, mostly from my Distractions AU (though not 'canon' for the AU).
1. The Vending Machine

**AN:** These drabbles were originally posted on Tumblr; I know that not everyone has a Tumblr account so I thought I'd post them here as well. I wrote these as responses to writers' prompts, so they are short with little editing beyond normal SPaG, and I don't consider them 'canon' for my _Distractions_ AU series, even though most take place within that context. I will continue writing new drabbles for Tumblr, and they will eventually make their way here; but there will probably be a lag.

Enjoy!

* * *

Hei pushed the bright yellow janitor's bucket and mop purposefully down the corridor. There were no windows on this level; no easy exit routes either. Fluorescent bulbs overhead buzzed fitfully as he passed under them, as if his mere presence was disruptive. Probably they were just cheap. The security in the building was good, but it was still government work.

The stolen data files were burning a hole in the pocket of his coveralls. He wanted to make his exit as soon as possible and hand the flash drive off to Huang. The Syndicate usually kept him at a particular part time job until they needed him else, but he could come up with an excuse to cut it short. The mission would be over soon, and every hour he spent in that building made him more and more paranoid.

But he couldn't rush; not now. He was technically allowed to traverse this hallway, and a minor disruption of the security cameras would have masked his entering the evidence locker. If he ran into anyone who questioned his presence, _I_ _'m lost_ would probably work. Any kind of haste would just throw up red flags. He thought about whistling, to play up the stereotype, but he couldn't carry a tune to save his life. There shouldn't be many staff here this late, in any case.

A clanging sound echoed down the corridor; Hei forced himself not to freeze, to look as if he belonged there. A curse in a woman's strong voice followed the bangs, and a mixture of tension and pleasant anticipation washed over him. He was pretty sure that he recognized those invectives.

Sure enough, as he rounded the corner that would take him to the elevators, he spotted Section Chief Kirihara Misaki standing in front of a vending machine, arms folded angrily. She looked the same as she had when she'd followed him to the shrine: tidy blue business suit, practical shoes, her long brown hair pulled back into a simple pony tail. The look suited her far better than the casual outfit she'd worn to the mall, somehow.

There was no way he could sneak by her; she was between him and the elevator. Best not to surprise her then. He let the mop bucket clatter as he pushed it across the tile floor and the police chief looked up sharply; her expression turned from anger to confusion at the sight of him.

"Li?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

She didn't sound unpleased to see him, Hei thought. Though he wasn't sure why that seemed to matter to him so much.

He tapped the plastic badge hanging from the breast pocket of his coveralls. "Janitorial staff. I started on Monday."

She shook her head, the overhead lights glancing off the lenses of her glasses. "I run into you in the weirdest places." Then her eyes narrowed slightly, and her forehead furrowed in thought.

"Working late?" Hei asked; less to be conversational, and more to disrupt whatever dangerous train of thought was beginning to form behind those warm brown eyes.

Those eyes widened slightly, then she smiled. "Yeah. I have some reports to finish up. I didn't have time to grab dinner, so I came down here for a snack. But this stupid thing" - she punched the sturdy window of the vending machine, scowling abruptly - "ate the only change I have."

Hei made of show of digging in his pockets. His hand closed briefly around the flash drive, then dropped it again. "I'd give you some if I had any, but I left everything in my locker." He shrugged, grinning apologetically. "We're not allowed to have personal items while working."

Misaki smiled again, and Hei found himself unable to take his eyes off her face. "Don't worry about it." She sighed. "It's not like pocky is that filling anyway; I was just really craving it."

Hei peered through the plastic front of the machine. A little red box of chocolate pocky was wedged at the very end of the little spiraling gizmo, poised to fall, but obstinately stuck. "Did you try shaking it?"

"You're not supposed to shake these things," Misaki told him sternly. "They could fall and crush someone. I did try hitting it a few times, but it didn't work. Obviously."

He shouldn't be standing there chatting. He should excuse himself, take the elevator up, and hand off the flash drive. Each minute spent in the headquarters of Section Four was one minute too long.

Instead, he let go of the mop and said, "Let me try."

Stepping up the vending machine, Hei gripped one side and pulled a couple inches away from the wall. He did the same thing on the other side. Then he hooked a foot under the base for extra leverage and pushed the machine up and back, letting it fall with a loud thud. One more push, and the box of pocky dropped to the bin at the bottom. He stooped and pulled it out, then offered it to Misaki.

She took it with a smile, her hand accidentally brushing his as she did. For some reason, he had to suppress a warm shiver at the touch. "That was a neat trick."

He shrugged, and rubbed the back of his head. "These things never work properly, and I get frustrated when I can't have my food."

Misaki laughed, her eyes shining. "I know the feeling. Here."

Hei stared blankly at the open box that she was holding out.

Her eyebrows rose. "Do you not like pocky?"

"Uh, no, I do." He took one of the slender sticks cautiously. Little acts of human kindness like this always caught him off guard; it was especially unexpected coming from someone like Chief Kirihara. Then he remembered how she'd been sure to get him, a helpless waiter, out of the line of fire at that hotel party when it was her life that had been in the most danger. Maybe not so unexpected, then.

"Well, I need to get back to work," she said, popping a piece into her own mouth. "Thanks for your help. Maybe I'll see you around again?"

"Uh, yeah. Maybe."

She smiled again, then turned away from him and the vending machine to open the door to the stairwell at the far end of the corridor. Maybe working here for a few more nights wouldn't be so bad after all, Hei mused. He examined the stick of pocky, then bit off the chocolate-covered portion. Tomorrow night, he'd bring some change with him.


	2. The Window Washer

Misaki looked up sharply as the just barely audible strains of music drifted through the open door of the conference room. She was alone in the office, and had been for a couple of hours. Saitou had been the last to leave that night, aside from herself.

She could have gone home earlier - she didn't have _that_ much work to do tonight - but a part of her was a little afraid to. It had only been a week since she and Hei had begun their arrangement, and so far he'd come up each night that she'd hung the signal. And each night she'd loved every second with him; the trouble was, she wanted more. She wanted him sleeping by her side _every_ night. That was what scared her. But if she didn't go home until it was late and she was exhausted, then she might forget to hang her scarf. She wouldn't have to make that conscious decision to let him into her life.

But she couldn't concentrate with that music playing. It was irritating. Who was here?

She stood up from the conference table, which was spread liberally with papers and case files, and headed to the door that led into the main office. The bright lights of the room were reflected in the glass windows on the far wall, masking what was usually a lovely view of the nighttime city. She probably should have turned the lights off; it was a waste of energy with no one here. The rows of cubicles sat empty and silent.

Silent, except for one.

Misaki strode down to the very end of the row to the cubicle nearest the long bank of windows - Ootsuka's desk. As she neared, the music grew louder; a terrible pop song by a group that she hated.

The computer was off, and it took Misaki a minute to locate the source of the music. At last, she found it: a radio tucked away behind the monitor. The alarm light was flashing; Ootsuka must have accidentally set the radio alarm.

Sighing in annoyance, Misaki searched for the off switch. But right as she was about to hit it, the song ended and a new one began. She recognized this one: a piece by a punk rock band that she had loved in high school. Alice and Kanami had dragged her to the live concert, and she had complained about the crowd and the noise the whole time; but secretly, she had enjoyed it.

She hadn't listened to this song in forever. But just as it had back then, the fast beat and happy melody got her blood pumping. Instead of turning the radio off, Misaki found herself turning up the volume. Her foot began tapping of its own accord. She let her shoulders shimmy a little - but then she immediately stopped, embarrassed despite being alone on the floor.

The song entered the chorus, and suddenly she couldn't _not_ dance. _Screw it_ , Misaki thought to herself. _There_ _'s no one here_.

She cranked up the volume and let herself go, shaking her hips like she'd been too afraid to do at that concert. In her head she could feel the energy of the screaming crowd; she saw Kanami's and Alice's laughing faces as they urged Misaki to dance with them. She hadn't, then. Now, she threw her arms in the air and danced up and down the row of desks, singing along to the song - how did she still know all the lyrics, after all these years?

She came to a laughing halt as the song ended, and quickly hit the off button on the radio before a bad song could come on and spoil her mood.

Misaki flapped her shirt in an attempt to cool down. Well, time to get back to work. Brushing a couple of loose strands of hair from her face, she crossed to the light switch on the wall. No sense in leaving them on; and anyway, the view out the windows was always worth a look.

She flipped the lights off - and jumped at the sight of a dark figure just outside the window, not three feet from where she stood.

Instinctively Misaki reached for her weapon; her heart clenched in fear when she realized that she wasn't wearing it. The figure outside didn't move. But wait - they were on the twenty-first floor. And that silhouette looked familiar…

"Hei?" She pressed a hand to her chest to slow her pounding heart. The Black Reaper was standing on a window washer's platform that she was sure hadn't been there earlier that evening and leaning casually against the support ropes, as if he wasn't tenuously suspended two hundred and fifty feet off the ground.

Despite his mask, it was obvious that he was staring directly at her; she realized that the low gray glow of the emergency lights was enough for him to still see into the building. Still see - _holy shit_ , Misaki realized, her face heating in embarrassment. How long had he been there, watching? The amused tilt of his head told her the answer. The entire time.

She wrapped one arm around her waist and clapped a hand over her mouth. She'd never been so mortified in her life. That was it; he was never going to want to see her again.

Hei moved then, startling her. He tapped at his wrist as if pointing to a watch; then before she could react, he turned and leapt carelessly off the platform. For a moment, she was confused by the gesture. When his meaning dawned on her, she smiled.

 _Time to go home_. And she had no doubt that he would be waiting.


	3. The Flight

Hei tossed his small duffel bag into the overhead bin, then crossed the aisle to his seat. He could never decide whether he preferred the aisle or the window: there was more room to stretch out in an aisle seat, and faster egress in case of emergency; but he didn't like not being able to see what was happening outside. Even thirty thousand feet up. He had ended up choosing a window seat for this trip, two rows ahead of the emergency exit; further back and the wing would block too many major sight lines. At least it was daylight. He hated flying at night.

The plane was rapidly filling up. Hei settled into his seat and pulled out his mp3 player, popping the ear buds into his ears. He didn't turn on the music just yet; slouched down, eyes partially closed, and wearing headphones, he hoped to broadcast the message that he wasn't interested in chatting with whoever sat down next to him. If he was lucky, the flight wouldn't be completely full and he'd have the whole row to himself.

He gazed out the window at the activity on the tarmac. Just the usual airport operations; nothing overtly suspicious. While he watched, he let the sounds from inside the cabin filter through his mind. People chatting about everyday things; a couple - American, from the sound of their English - couldn't find their seats; somewhere in the back of the plane a toddler was having a tantrum. From time to time he glanced over to the aisle so that he could keep an eye on the bin containing his duffel - the custom-built liner had successfully hidden his gear from the x-ray scanners, but he couldn't be too careful.

A flicker of movement outside his window caught his eye, and he tensed; but it was just a bird.

Hei had just allowed himself to relax again when a familiar voice said, "Is this seat taken?"

He looked up in sharp surprise, certain that he was hearing things. But no: Misaki stood in the aisle, smiling nervously at him. When he didn't respond, she raised an eyebrow.

"Uh," he said, straightening a little in his seat. "No."

She nodded in relief and sat down. Hei watched as she bent to place her large purse under the seat in front of her. She'd told him that she was going to a conference this weekend, but he'd been so focused on his own mission that it hadn't even occurred to him that they might be on the same flight.

Having stowed her things, Misaki sat back up and buckled her seatbelt. "So," she said quietly, "Okinawa?"

Hei shook his head minutely. "I'm getting off in Nagasaki, but I'm not staying there." He didn't have any further details; he only knew that he would take a transport from the public airport to the American airbase that was nearby. Once he was on a military plane he would be debriefed on his mission.

"Oh." She sounded relieved and disappointed at the same time. Or maybe he was just projecting his own feelings on the situation.

The plane lurched as it began to push away from the gate. Hei fixed his eyes on the personnel out the window, who were directing the process. She shouldn't have asked to sit next to him. He shouldn't have said yes. Any of these other people on the plane could be a member of the Syndicate, set to watch him - or her. But despite that…he was glad she was there. Even if he had to spend the next two hours pretending that they were just the most casual of acquaintances.

There was a rumble as the engines roared to life. Misaki had taken a pen and a magazine out of her purse and was flipping through the pages, but she set it down at the sound.

"This is my favorite part," she said, eyes shining in anticipation.

Hei didn't say anything. He stared straight ahead at the tray in front of him, forcing his breathing to stay even. The engines revved up, and he felt the G-forces pushing him into his seat as the plane hurtled down the runway. Then the aircraft lifted off, and his stomach dropped.

A touch on his hand startled him out of his concentration. He turned his head to see Misaki looking into his face with concern, her hand laid over his. She was also biting her lip.

He forced himself to loosen his grip on the armrest. "It's okay," he told her. "You can laugh."

"I'm trying so hard not to," she said with a worried grin. "But seriously - I've seen you jump off a building fifteen stories high."

He shrugged stiffly. "This is different. I'd be fine if I had a parachute."

A flight attendant was heading down the aisle towards them; Hei reluctantly but quickly pulled his hand from Misaki's grasp. Catching the hint, she returned her focus to her magazine.

After the attendant had passed, Misaki said quietly, "I've always wanted to skydive."

"You'd like it." Hei liked it as well; he'd much rather be jumping out of this plane than riding in it. The sooner the flight ended, the better.

Once the in-flight service began, they didn't have much opportunity to chat without being observed. Misaki worked on some kind of crossword puzzle in her magazine, while Hei turned on his mp3 player and shut his eyes. Normally he would have tried to sleep: a two-hour flight was perfect for banking hours that he knew he would be missing tonight, and the more of the flight he could miss, the better. Instead, he held an image of Misaki in his mind, as she sat next to him: her glasses sliding down her nose as she leaned over the page; her ponytail draped over her shoulder; the top two buttons on her blouse undone and her suit jacket folded neatly in her lap; her ankles demurely crossed. Every now and then he imagined that he could hear her tapping her pen against her wrist.

He had no idea how long he had been zoned out like that, but a sudden lurch snapped him out of it, and his eyes flew open. The plane jolted again; he gripped the armrest compulsively. He glanced at his watch: they were only a half hour into the flight. Fantastic.

Then he felt Misaki hook her foot around his, and he relaxed a little.

She said something, but between the white noise from the cabin, the children screaming in the back, and the loud volume of his mp3 player, he didn't understand her. He removed one of his ear buds.

"What?"

"I asked, what are you listening to?"

Wordlessly, he passed the ear bud to her. Misaki placed it in her own ear; then her smile turned into a look of confusion.

"What is this?"

He fished the player out of his pocket and showed her the screen.

" _Sounds of the Rainforest_ ," Misaki read.

"It helps me relax," Hei admitted reluctantly. He couldn't read her expression; so he changed the subject. "What are you working on?"

She passed the magazine over to him. "Sudoku. Have you ever played?"

He shook his head, and she proceeded to explain the rules. "It's easy," she finished, though Hei doubted that. It sounded complicated.

…and it was. Even after an hour of working at it, he couldn't even solve one of the easier sets. "I've never been much good at math," he told Misaki.

"It isn't math," she said, exasperated. "All you have to do is count up to nine."

Hei looked at the page again. "Oh," he said, his voice even. "I think it's because I've been trying to do it in Chinese."

Misaki narrowed her eyes at him briefly; then she gave a snort of laughter. "Shut up." She squeezed his hand. "Maybe we should do a logic problem instead."

But just as she turned the page in the magazine, the sound of the engines changed. They both glanced out the window; Hei was shocked to see the ground below slowly but surely getting closer. The flight attendants were walking up and down the aisles, asking the passengers to prepare for landing.

"Oh," Misaki said. "I hadn't realized we were so close."

She let go of his hand and put away the magazine; but her leg remained pressed up against his throughout the landing. Hei couldn't remember ever experiencing a smoother one.

The plane taxied to the gate; as soon as it had halted, the passengers stood en masse to collect their belongings and deplane. Misaki remained seated.

"I wish you were on the flight to Okinawa with me," she said softly.

Hei pulled his duffel down from the overhead bin, feeling the familiar, comforting weight of his gear.

"Me too," he said honestly.


	4. Christmas Eve

When Misaki answered her door, she was wearing a Santa hat. 'Cute' was not a word that Hei had ever thought to apply to Misaki before, but with that smile on her face and that ridiculous hat on her head, it was the only word that fit.

She grinned at him, then took his arm to pull him inside. "Merry Christmas!"

"Christmas is tomorrow," he said. He slipped off his shoes, then shrugged out of his coat.

Misaki shoved his shoulder affectionately. "It's close enough. Did you get everything on the list?"

In answer, he held up the plastic shopping bag. He had no idea what he wanted these things for; Misaki had simply told him that he would find out. She took the bag from him and carried it into the kitchen to start unpacking it. "I have a couple bottles of wine," she called. "Do you want a glass?"

Hei didn't answer; he was too busy staring around the apartment. Two days ago, it had looked just as it always had. Tonight, green garlands were strung along the walls; silk poinsettia flowers were tucked amongst the knickknacks on the bookcase; a moderately tall Christmas tree stood in front of the balcony door, covered in ornaments and glittering colored lights. An orchestral arrangement of classic Christmas songs was playing softly in the background. A lot of the decorations looked homemade, he thought.

"Hei?"

He glanced over; Misaki had set out three wine glasses, and had just finished pouring one. He was about to decline her offer, but…the Syndicate _had_ given him the next two nights off. And it was Christmas, after all. Well, almost Christmas. "Sure," he said. "Just a little."

There was a knock at the door.

"That's Kanami - do you mind getting it?" Misaki asked, in the middle of pouring.

Hei opened the door to find Misaki's friend Kanami waiting on the other side, with a Santa hat perched jauntily on her hair. She looked slightly surprised to see him rather than Misaki, but she recovered quickly.

"Merry Christmas, Li. Where's your hat?" she asked as she came in.

"Oh!" Misaki exclaimed, then hurried out of the kitchen. "I can't believe I forgot!" She fetched a Santa hat from the coffee table and passed it to Hei. He took the lumpy red cloth reluctantly and eyed it.

Misaki arched an eyebrow. "You have to wear it," she said, folding her arms.

Hei glanced at Kanami. She was grinning.

"Those are the rules," she said.

"It's tradition," Misaki added.

He suppressed a sigh, and settled the hat on his head.

"Here," Misaki said, and reached up to adjust the angle, tucking his hair back out of his eyes. It was all he could do not to lean forward and kiss her; he felt a little awkward with her friend right there. But he'd wear any kind of silly hat, if it meant an excuse to be this close to her.

"Tradition?" he asked when she had pulled back.

She nodded, a brief flash of sadness appearing in her expression. But it was gone again in an instant. "Every Christmas Eve, Kanami and I make gingerbread houses, and it's not festive without the Santa hats."

That didn't make much sense to Hei; but then, he thought, tradition rarely did. "Gingerbread houses? That's what the things on the list were for?"

"Yeah. Don't worry, I have a recipe."

Kanami began preparing the icing while Misaki and Hei collected the ingredients that he would need to make the gingerbread dough. Misaki's recipe was hand-written on an old index card, so stained with what looked like cinnamon in some places that Hei couldn't make out the characters. Fortunately, Misaki knew it by memory and filled in the blanks for him.

Misaki and Kanami opened the packages of gumdrops and licorice that Hei had bought while he cut sections out of the gingerbread; Misaki selected a thin knife from her knife block and began to carefully slice the gumdrops into flat disks. They were ending up more squashed than anything, and he could see her frustration building, her brow furrowing more deeply with each failed attempt.

"That knife is too dull," he told her.

Misaki's eyebrows rose. "Are you an expert gumdrop slicer?"

"I'm an expert knife sharpener," he said flatly, and held out his hand for the knife. Kanami looked a little pale and downed the last of her wine; Misaki sighed. She washed the sugar off of the blade, then handed it over.

Hei had picked up a steel knife sharpener for Misaki after he'd begun cooking regularly at her place. Her knives were good quality, but she didn't know how to care for them properly. Even after he'd shown her how, she still preferred him to do it. He pulled the sharpener from a drawer and began rasping the knife across it, a soothing metallic hiss filling the air. Misaki watched him with the same sly fascination that she always did.

When the knife was sharpened to his satisfaction, he returned it to Misaki. She tried it out on a new gumdrop; the little disk sliced off cleanly. "Alright, you were right," she huffed.

When the ingredients were all prepared, they brought everything to the coffee table and sat down, Hei and Misaki on one side and Kanami across from them. Hei had no idea how to build a gingerbread house, so he watched Misaki for instruction. But she couldn't get the walls as straight as she wanted, and kept taking it apart. Neither of them was making much progress. Kanami quickly had two stories on hers, and was beginning to weigh it down with so many gumdrop shingles that Hei thought the roof must collapse.

He was mostly silent while they worked; Misaki and her friend chatted animatedly, and it was nice to just sit and listen. Kanami asked him how Yin was doing, and the questions were personal rather than professional, which pleased him. He took a sip of the wine; he didn't particularly care for the taste, but it helped him feel a little more as if he fit in with their friendship. He and Kanami hadn't spent much time in each other's company, and he could tell that she was still a little wary of him, moreso than she had been before she'd learned who he actually was.

"I thought you said that you didn't drink?" Kanami noted in surprise.

Hei shrugged lightly. "I don't usually."

"You said you'd had a bad experience," Misaki said curiously. "What happened?"

He hesitated; it wasn't as if it was a secret or anything. It just felt odd talking about his past with anyone. "Part of my training included learning how my body reacts to alcohol, and how to function while inebriated. I basically spent a month on one long bender."

Kanami made a face. "That sounds awful!"

He shrugged again. He'd thrown up more times that month than he had in his entire life; and it had been a good year before he could even smell alcohol without having to stifle a gag. Jobs that included visiting bars were definitely his least favorite.

Misaki was gazing at him with a slightly wistful expression; Hei focused intently on making little windows out of icing.

Light flickered from across the room; then abruptly the colorful glow of the Christmas tree winked out.

"Damn it," Misaki sighed, clearly disappointed.

"It's probably just a burned out bulb," Kanami suggested. "Do you have extras?"

"Yes - but it'll take forever to find which one is bad."

Hei rose from his seat and crouch down next to the tree. He moved a squashy-feeling gift out of the way and unplugged the cord of the lights. If anyone asked him how his power worked, he wouldn't be able to explain it. It was too intuitive. He could _feel_ how an electric current was running, and manipulate its path. When he sent a small pulse of current through the string of Christmas lights, it met resistance at the burned out bulb. He located the bulb and popped it out.

"New one?" he asked Misaki. Both women were looking at him skeptically; from their perspective, nothing at all had happened. But Misaki fetched a new bulb from a drawer in the kitchen and brought it to him. Hei pushed it in to the vacant slot, then plugged the cord in again. The Christmas tree lit up once more.

Misaki cast him a warm smile, her expression made even brighter by the glow of the lights. Kanami raised her eyebrows and gave a low whistle.

"That's pretty handy," she said. "Hey!" She reached into the back pocket of her jeans, then pulled out her cell phone and tossed it to Hei. "Can you help me with this?"

Hei caught the phone in surprise, and turned it over in his hands.

"The battery died on my way here, and I don't have my charger with me," Kanami explained.

"Kanami!" Misaki said, aghast. "He isn't a battery."

"He can convert energy into electricity - he literally is a battery."

Her smile had a mischievous glint to it that kept Hei from feeling offended. He sighed, holding the phone in his hand, and sent a low but steady current into the back of it. The screen lit up with a charging battery emblem. Kanami's grin widened; Misaki snorted.

The two women finished up the gingerbread houses while Hei charged the phone. Misaki's house was relatively unadorned, but her licorice trim was straight and even. Kanami's house was more haphazard, and held the most candy. Hei's was a copy of Misaki's, but without the attention to detail.

"So when do we eat them?" he asked.

Misaki's face froze, and he almost laughed, the corners of his mouth curving up in a slight smile. Kanami did laugh. Then Misaki realized that he was just teasing her, and shoved his shoulder.

It was just before midnight; Kanami wanted to make an appearance at a party that her cousin was throwing, so she hugged Misaki goodbye, wishing her a merry Christmas. To Hei's surprise, she hugged him too, thought it was over before he had recovered in time to return it. Misaki walked her out, and Hei settled on the sofa, looking at the gingerbread houses.

When Misaki returned, she flicked off the lights in the kitchen and the living room, so that the apartment was lit only by the glow of the Christmas tree.

"It's snowing," she noted, her gaze focused out the glass doors of the balcony.

"Good thing we don't have to go anywhere," Hei said.

She smiled, then joined him on the sofa, pressing close. He wrapped an arm around her and slipped a hand under her sweater to feel the warm, soft skin of her waist.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" she asked.

He nodded. It was the first Christmas Eve that he hadn't spent alone in more time than he could remember. "It was nice to spend time together with your friend. But will you be upset if I say that I'm glad she's gone?" he asked quietly, squeezing her waist.

Misaki laughed softly, and laid her head on his shoulder. The fuzzy Santa hat tickled his chin. "No; of course not."

Hei wondered why she wasn't spending Christmas Eve with her family, and asked.

"Dad doesn't really do Christmas," Misaki said. "It was my mom's favorite holiday, and it was the middle of December when she passed away. So the whole month is always pretty rough for him. Lunch with me on Christmas day is as much as he can handle. But Kanami comes over every year." She hesitated, then added, "I'm glad you were able to be here tonight."

They sat quietly for several minutes, content just to be alone together. Then Misaki pushed away from him and leaned over the side of the sofa towards the tree. When she sat back again she was holding the package that Hei had noticed earlier. She handed it to him. "It's for you," she said, somewhat shyly.

Hei took the gift in surprise. No one had given him a Christmas present in ten years. "You didn't have to."

"I know. I wanted to."

"Should I open it now?"

Misaki smiled. "It's after midnight. It's Christmas."

He supposed that was a yes. He unwrapped the package slowly to reveal a navy blue scarf.

"The color reminded me of your eyes," Misaki said. "It's to keep you warm - for when I can't."

He didn't know what to say. He probably ought to say thank you, but he didn't trust his voice right at that moment. So instead of saying anything, he shifted in his seat and reached into his back pocket to pull out the small, flat case that he'd been holding onto all evening. He pressed it into Misaki's hand.

She stared down at it, eyes wide.

"Sorry I didn't wrap it," Hei said.

Misaki smiled; he knew that she wouldn't care about that. She opened the case carefully. Inside rested a simple silver chain with a dark star sapphire pendant, so blue that it was almost black.

"I know you don't really wear jewelry," Hei said when she didn't say anything. "But I saw it, and I thought you might like it."

"It's beautiful," she breathed. "But, Hei - this must have been expensive."

He shrugged awkwardly. "Not really. I've spent years working menial jobs, but I've never needed to spend the money on anything. So I'd just been saving it."

"But, still…"

"Think of it as being for all of the past Christmases that we weren't together, because we didn't know each other yet. But I wish that we had."

He thought that he saw a tear glimmer in her eye, but she blinked it back before he could be sure. She brushed the back of her hand along his jaw, then cupped his cheek and took his lips in hers. They were warm, and soft, and sweet with gingerbread icing. At last they broke apart, and Hei leaned his forehead against hers.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered.


	5. ItDN: The Morning After pt 1

**AN:** This chapter is an outtake from _Into the Dark Night_. I've written some scenes here and there that were useful for plotting purposes, but aren't going to be published as part of the final story. But I don't want them to go to waste, so I'll be posting them here!

Outtake 19.1 takes place June 27, 1998, on the morning following Chapter 19. (No spoilers)

* * *

Jiao-tu hopped impatiently from one foot to the other. "Where _are_ they, we're going to be late!"

Her brother was peering down the street. He shrugged, frowning a little. "They were late the other day."

"Not _this_ late. We're going to miss the start of class!" Jiao-tu had been late for class only once before, when her mother had taken her to an early doctor's appointment. She'd gotten to school a whole hour after the bell rang, and all the other students had watched her as she took her seat. It had been horrible.

Jiang sighed. "Maybe we should just leave without them?"

"But what if we leave and they get here and then they're late because we're not here and they were waiting?"

"Tian's not that stupid," Jiang snorted; but he hesitated, glancing down the street again. "Go ask Mom what we should do."

Jiao-tu huffed at the order, but she ran to the house anyway. Their mother was in the kitchen, washing the dishes from breakfast while Grandmother dried them.

" _Xiao-_ tu, you should be at school already!" Mom said in surprise when Jiao-tu entered.

"I know," she said, drawing in a deep breath, "but Tian and Xing aren't here yet and Jiang wants to know should we wait or should we leave without them."

Both women frowned. "That's odd," Grandmother said. "They weren't going up to the lake again this weekend, were they?"

Mom shook her head. "No, An told me just the other day that they'd be here for dinner tomorrow. Jiao-tu, you and Jiang shouldn't wait; there's no point in all four of you being late."

"But, I wanted to talk to Xing…" She plucked at her dragon charm, as if just touching it would imbue her with dragon-bravery. She hadn't exactly been looking forward to this morning: another long walk to school with Xing either refusing to acknowledge her existence, or telling her how terrible she was at everything. But last night Grandfather had told her that she needed to stop running from the things that upset her, and just talk with Xing about it. He'd offered to sit down with them and talk together, but she wanted to try it on her own first. She didn't want to disappoint him.

"There will be plenty of time to talk later. Now go on!" Mom made a shooing motion with her dishtowel. Then she turned back to the sink. "I don't like it; I knew I should have offered to drive them all this morning," she began as Jiao-tu scurried out.

There was still no sign of Tian or Xing when she reached the gate.

"Mom says to go," she told Jiang.

"Yeah," Jiang said, "I guess we should."

He took one last, long look down the street. Jiao-tu stared as well. She wondered what could be keeping their cousins. Maybe they'd been up late stargazing; Tian had said that he and Uncle were going to set up the telescope. Though why they wanted to look for stars that probably weren't even real was beyond her.

Then she realized that her brother had already turned and was walking briskly in the opposite direction.

"Jiang, wait up, you dummy!"

"Grow longer legs, Little Rabbit."

"Shut up, I'm not a rabbit!" Jiao-tu ran to keep up. She wished that Tian was there; at least _he_ was always nice to her.


	6. ItDN: The Morning After pt 2

**AN:** Second outtake from post-Chapter-19 of _ItDN_. Spoiler-free.

* * *

Hong set the last of the practice mats atop the stack, taking a moment to even it out. "I love teaching the little ones," he commented, "but maybe we should invest in some stepladders, so they can put the tumbling equipment away themselves." Older students were required to clean up the studio after every class; but it wasn't reasonable to ask four-year-olds to do much more than help wipe down the floor.

His father didn't look up from the small table in the corner, where he sat engrossed in the morning newspaper. "Stop complaining. Good discipline builds good character; you're never too old for discipline."

"When was the last time you put away the mats, old man?" Hong asked with a grin.

Xu Man twitched a smile. In his wushu studio, Xu Man would answer to no names other than _Shifu-Xu_ or _Shifu-Grandfather_ , and he was not to be argued with; his students would be shocked to learn that their teacher was human after all. "Let it never be said that I deprived others of the opportunity to build character."

Hong settled in the seat across from Xu Man and reached for the tea kettle; it was still just hot enough to drink. "Anything in the paper?" he asked, pouring himself out a cup.

His father turned the page with a look of mild disgust. "Words," was all he said, but Hong knew what he meant. Even in the best of times, Xu Man had little favorable to say about the government; but ever since the disaster in Tokyo, the Party had been even more reticent with information than usual.

"I still haven't been able to find out exactly what happened with the Hons," Hong said quietly, even though there were no other ears in the room to overhear the conversation. "Mrs. Hon supposedly left to stay with a relative this morning, but the neighbor said that she had a police escort."

Xu Man didn't comment, but his jaw tightened slightly.

This had always been such a peaceful neighborhood. Hong and his sister had grown up here, and most of the other residents had as well; some as many as three or four generations back. It was worrying to see such violence so close to home.

"Has Grandmother talked to you about taking the kids out of school?"

"Your mother worries too much." Xu Man made a dismissive motion that was betrayed by the concern in his eyes. "They only have a week left, in any case."

Hong nodded, taking a sip of tea. He'd said as much to Yafang, but she'd already picked up on her mother-in-law's apprehensions. "What about Xinkun's offer to spend the summer break with them in Zhangjiaping? I know you don't want to shut down the school, but it might be nice to get away from the city for a while. Especially right now."

"It's a small house."

"We have the camping gear."

His father hesitated. "I haven't been spending much time with the kids lately…"

"And _Xiao_ -tu and Xing will have to work out their problems, if they're going to be cooped up together for an entire month," Hong pointed out. Then he sighed. "I never would have expected Xing of all people to cause so much trouble. I guess there's more of An in her than we thought."

That got a smile out of his father. "How many times did your sister run away from home?"

"A dozen, at least," Hong laughed. "No matter how often you scolded her about being a better example for her little brother. But she settled down at last; I'm sure it will be the same with Xing."

Xu Man nodded slowly. "Yes," he said. "It's Tian I'm more concerned about."

"Tian? I thought he was making some real progress this week." His nephew had always had great potential, if only he could get over his reluctance to fight an opponent. But the _shifu_ had forbidden Hong to push the boy during sparring (though he refused to explain why), so Hong had left it alone. It had been encouraging to see Tian begin to shed some of his insecurities at last night's practice, and go on the offensive for once.

"That is what worries me."

Hong's eyebrows rose. "Why? Is this about the fight with that older boy last week? I know that was out of character for Tian, but I doubt it'll ever happen again; I've never seen anyone carrying so much guilt. Jiang could learn a thing or two from him," he added, somewhat cynically. He knew his son would never harm anyone without a reason, but it was going to take a lot of work to get his temper under control. He sighed. "Tian is a sensitive boy, and he'll grow into a sensitive man. Like his father."

Hong remembered the first time that An had brought Xinkun home to meet the family. The tall, lanky youth from the country who preferred books to sports had seemed like such a poor match for his sister that he'd assumed that it was nothing more than her latest rebellion. But it hadn't taken long for him to see that he was completely wrong: Xinkun was calm water to An's burning fire, solid earth to her capricious winds. They balanced each other perfectly, and their children were a perfect blend of their personalities, sweet-tempered and full of life.

"Out of character? Maybe."

"You don't think so?"

Xu Man was silent for a long moment before he spoke. "Jiang is rash, yes; but he knows exactly what he is capable of, and he knows the consequences of his actions. Tian…Tian is impulsive as well, but he is willfully blind to himself. And I've encouraged that. Sensitivity is a great strength; but a man cannot be of two minds about his own nature."

He was probably reading too much into the situation, Hong thought. All children went through these stages of self-discovery; it was part of growing up.

"Well," he said, "I'm sure that without the distractions of the city, you'll have a chance to have a long talk with Tian about this."

"You've already convinced me; no need to push it," his father said irritably. Hong smiled. He wasn't going to admit it to anyone, but he was just as anxious to get out of the city as Yafang was; it just didn't feel safe here anymore.

The two men drank their tea in companionable silence. Xu Man returned to the paper, while Hong gazed around the little studio. He had so many fond memories of this room: training for competitions with his friends; that time one of his teammates had claimed that girls didn't belong in wushu, and An had proceeded to kick the boy's ass; introducing his own son to his favorite sport and watching him learn and grow. And someday he'd teach his grandchildren here, and his sister's grandchildren as well. He smiled at the thought.

The door to the studio opened quietly; Hong glanced up to see his wife enter, but his smile slipped when he saw the worry etched on her face.

"What is it?" he asked. His father set down the newspaper.

Yafang folded her arms across her chest as if she was cold, though the late morning was hot and muggy. "The school just called," she said. "Tian and Xing never showed up for class, and they couldn't get a hold of anyone at the apartment."

"Did you try calling?"

She nodded. "No answer."

That was odd: if the kids were too sick for school, An would have stayed home with them, or else brought them over here for Yafang to look after.

Yafang continued, "I tried calling An at work, but the nurse on duty said she'd never checked in, and hadn't called to say she was going to be out today. And I tried calling the country house just in case, but there's no one there either."

"If they're going to Zhangjiaping, they'd still be on the bus," Xu Man said softly. "But they always let us know when they head up there, and An wouldn't leave her shift uncovered. Xinkun?"

She shook her head. "There was no answer at his office, but if he's teaching right now he wouldn't be there anyway. I didn't know who else to try."

"It's probably nothing," Hong said with more confidence than he felt. "I'll walk down and see if anyone's home."


	7. Air Hockey

This takes place in an AU of no particular distinction, at no particular point in time.

* * *

"Are you guys almost finished? I call winner."

Hei didn't waver from his concentration on the game, but beside him Kouno let out a startled "Urk!" and promptly missed his aim; Ootsuka giggled in the background. The timer ran down as they fired their plastic guns at the targets on the screen, until the buzzer went off and Hei's side flashed and blinked with excited lights. He'd beaten Kouno by quite a decent margin.

Kouno passed Misaki his gun and stepped down from the platform - but not before dropping his voice and telling Hei, "Do yourself a favor and let her win."

The narrowing of her eyes told Hei that Misaki had heard the comment; but in any case, he knew better than to take it easy on her.

"Ready?" she asked, taking up a perfect stance and aiming the gun at the center of the screen, which now depicted a crate-cluttered warehouse.

"Sure," Hei said, his own fake weapon held loosely at his side. He liked the plastic gun; it felt nothing like a real pistol.

Misaki nodded once, then slapped her hand down on the start button without letting her aim waver an inch.

The garish music ramped up and grainy space aliens began popping up from behind the crates and barrels or the edges of the screen. Hei swung his gun as each one appeared, pulling the trigger a moment before his sights landed on the enemy; by the time one creature fell he was already firing at the next one.

After a minute or two, he risked a glance over at Misaki. Her jaw was tight, and although her aim was good, she wasn't felling every one.

"Pay attention to your own game!" she snapped without turning. Guiltily, Hei refocused on his screen.

The timer wound down; the lights flashed, victory music sang out, and the word _Winner!_ blinked happily - on Hei's side of the screen. Misaki stared at it expressionlessly, arms at her side and her hand tight around the grip of her gun. Behind her Ootsuka clapped twice before she caught Saitou's frantic glance and stopped.

"A thousand points," Hei said cautiously. "That's pretty close."

It was a lie, and they both knew it. Misaki's cheek twitched.

"You're aiming like it's a real gun, but you have to account for the slow response."

Misaki didn't say anything and continued to stare at the screen.

"Because, it's a computer, and the program…" Hei trailed off. He wasn't sure if anything he was saying was making it better, or worse. "I mean, if this was a real weapon, and real aliens - I mean, your marksmanship -"

"Look, the air hockey table's free - any takers?" Misaki turned to the group, her eyes bright. Everyone took one step back; Saitou became suddenly very interested in his shoes, while Kouno scratched his nose and stared up at the ceiling.

Hei looked around at them all. "What's air hockey?" he asked.

Misaki grinned, then grabbed his arm. "I'll show you." As she dragged him off the platform and across the arcade, he caught the mercenary glimmer in her eye and swallowed hard.

The rest of the group gathered around as Misaki explained the game to Hei. It sounded simple enough; he put in some tokens and the magnetic surface of the table powered up. Ever since he'd gotten his contractor ability, magnetic fields made his skin crawl. Shivering briefly, he took one of the mallets and slid the other over to Misaki, who caught it deftly.

"I have the puck," she said. She placed the flat yellow disc on the horizontal line that marked the center of the table, then crouched low over her goal in a ready stance. Hei mimicked her as best he could; the puck started drifting to one side, and he kept his attention split between her and it.

Which turned out to be a mistake. Misaki lunged forward when his attention wavered, shooting her arm out and connecting her mallet with the puck. The disc shot straight into Hei's goal before he even had a chance to react.

"Ha!" Misaki exclaimed, pumping her hand in the air. "First point to me!"

She grinned while he blinked dumbly at the table. He'd let go of his mallet, and it was currently drifting aimlessly away. He pulled it back absently.

He fetched the puck from the return slot in front of his knees and started to place it in the center of the table, but Misaki said, "No, you get to serve, since you lost the point." He could tell that she was trying to keep the smugness out of her voice; but if there was one thing he'd learned about Misaki, it was that she was just as bad a winner as she was a loser. So, it was _that_ kind of game, was it?

Hei twirled the puck in front of him for a moment, getting used to the way it moved on the magnetic surface. Then he let it float forward a few inches, and tapped it lightly with the mallet. The puck glided smoothly - and slowly - towards the side fender, where it ricocheted gracefully and headed towards Misaki's goal.

Misaki's mouth twitched as she waited impatiently for the puck to come within range; then she snapped her elbow and with a loud crack sent the puck zooming back towards him.

This time, Hei was ready. He hit the puck at a sharp angle and it glanced off the side wall only to zip at high speed into the opposite wall, careening back and forth but with hardly any forward progress. Misaki watched the puck with hawk eyes, her hand tensed around her mallet. As soon as the disc crossed the center line into her territory she lunged, shooting it straight towards him.

But Hei had already lunged forward as well. He intercepted the puck before it was even halfway to his goal and shot it beneath Misaki's still outstretched arm, off the side wall, and right into her goal. Her mouth dropped open as it slotted in and rolled into the puck return. There was a collected _ooh_ from the bystanders, and the little digital display in the center now read _1:1_. Hei raised one eyebrow, schooling his expression into one of mild interest.

Misaki eyed him suspiciously. Doubt flashed across her face - but only for the briefest moment. Then she fetched the puck and served it again. Hei trapped it in the corner, killing the momentum, and tapped it gently back towards her. Misaki shot him a glare as she drummed her fingers on the table in obvious irritation while she waited for the puck to reach her. She slid the mallet for a banking shot - when the puck abruptly jolted in its easy glide. Instead of hitting it dead-on, she only grazed an edge, sending it bouncing sloppily back to Hei's end of the table. He returned it with a loud crack. Misaki tried to recover, but she hadn't expected the speed of the volley and missed. The puck slid cleaning into her unprotected goal.

Her eyes flashed in sudden understanding; he was going to pay for that little cheat later, Hei knew - but it always caught her by surprise when he played dirty, and he loved catching her by surprise. Misaki slapped the puck down on the table and immediately served it at breakneck speed.

This time Hei didn't have a chance to strategize. He reacted on instinct, defending his goal and sending the disc hurtling back towards her. Misaki rebounded it, and thus began a series of rapid-fire volleys that consumed Hei's whole attention. The din and bright lights of the arcade, the cheering spectators, all faded from his awareness until there was nothing left but the yellow spin of the puck, the _clack clack clack_ as it zoomed back and forth, and Misaki's intense stare. Now and again the puck would slip past a defensive block and into a goal, only to be whipped right back out and served again.

At last, Hei got a lucky shot into Misaki's goal, bringing the game to a tie at _6-6_.

"Game point," Misaki said, not taking her eyes off of Hei's as she flipped the disc back onto the table. Her serve had all the power of her entire arm in it, and Hei missed the puck completely. Fortunately it missed the goal as well, and zigzagged back towards Misaki, who pelted it right back again. The speed was too fast to try and return, so Hei took up a defensive position, guarding his goal and zipping it across the field whenever it came close enough to hit.

Misaki returned each volley furiously, until even she couldn't catch up to the spinning puck. It careened across the table all on its own, glancing off of walls and mallets at breakneck speed. Finally Hei managed to jam it into a corner, killing its momentum; it rebounded with a lazy twist, slowly gliding at a broad angle towards the center line.

Hei stared at Misaki's death grip on her mallet, watching for the slightest movement. He could tell without seeing that she was doing the same with him.

The puck lost its spin. It had just reached the middle of the table was moving purely by the low-grade magnetic force.

Hei waited, evening his breath.

A muscle in Misaki's thumb flexed.

Hei lunged for the puck - so did Misaki. Their mallets connected with it on opposite sides at exactly the same time. But the force of Hei's attack was just slightly stronger than Misaki's, and it was enough to flip the puck against her mallet, off the table, and into the air, where it connected squarely with Kouno's forehead.

"What - _ow!_ " he exclaimed, staggering back.

Hei's first instinct was to apologize - but Misaki burst out laughing before he could say anything.

"Oh god, Kouno - are you okay?" she asked after she'd paused for breath.

There was a dazed look on his face. "Yeah," he muttered, rubbing a red spot on his head. "It's my own fault for standing between the two of you."

The others were laughing too, so Hei hazarded a smile. Saitou stopped down and picked up the puck from the floor, then handed it to Hei, who offered it in turn to Misaki.

"Why don't we just call it a draw?" she said, her face pleasantly flushed with exertion.

He nodded; but the game wasn't going to turn off until the final point had been scored, and there was a pair of college students waiting to play. So Hei stepped up to the table and dropped the puck into his own goal.

Misaki opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again and shook her head. "Well, what next?"

"Food?" Hei suggested.

She smiled. "You read my mind."


	8. Insomnia

Late-night _Distractions_ ficlet (~1700 words). It's 2am, and Misaki can't seem to fall asleep.

 ****Rate M. Explicit content. Slightly dirty. Lemon. Be warned.****

* * *

Despite how tired she'd been when she crawled into bed that evening, sleep was still eluding Misaki. Her brain just wouldn't shut down: thoughts on her cases, lists of things she still needed to finish that week, tomorrow's schedule, the stress of life in general filled her mind to bursting.

She reached over to her nightstand and picked up her phone, pressing the button on the side to light the display: 2:01am. The numbers made her smile, though they meant that she'd been tossing and turning for a full three hours. And if it was this late, she probably wasn't going to see him tonight. That would make it four nights in a row; he must be out on another job.

Misaki kicked off her covers and rose from the bed to walk over to the window. A draft raised goosebumps on the flesh of her bare legs; she tugged the hem of her tank top down, but it didn't do much to cover her favorite blue boyshorts. Pulling the curtains aside, Misaki gazed out at the nighttime city. Without her glasses, the distant street lights and lit windows of neighboring apartment buildings were indistinct blobs of twinkling lights. It was much prettier than such a dangerous city had any right to look; but she loved the sight.

Hei was out there, somewhere. She didn't particularly care to think about what it was that he was doing; she simply hoped that he was safe. Maybe he was on his way to her even now. He moved so quietly that she rarely heard him enter her apartment; she never heard him leave. At that moment he could be picking the lock on her balcony door, sliding it silently open and padding across the living room, down the hall, and into her bedroom. She wouldn't hear him as he approached her from behind. He would slip one black-gloved hand across her lower belly, wrapping the other around her throat…

She shivered, and it wasn't from the draft. Well, that _was_ one tried and true cure for insomnia.

Turning, she almost expected to see the dark figure of the Black Reaper lurking in the shadows cast by the orange light from the window. But though the shadows were deep, they were empty. With a sigh, she climbed back onto her bed - but she left the covers off.

Where was she? That's right - Hei's hand around her throat. She placed her own hands in the same positions in which she'd imagined his. The touch of her fingers was no substitute for the cool, worn leather of his gloves, and the mattress beneath her a poor replacement for his lean and warm body. But Misaki closed her eyes, and tried.

With the tips of her fingers, she traced the lacy waistband of her underwear. The first night that she'd worn this lingerie, Hei had kissed her like that, trailing his lips and tongue along the edge of the lace, tasting her and making her quiver in anticipation. The sense memory quickened her pulse. He'd also told her all about that doll that night; and now they'd received an anonymous tip about a doll-smuggling operation. One of the dolls that they had rescued in the bust had been in rough shape; she might not -

 _No. Focus, Misaki_.

She squeezed her eyes shut and forced all thoughts about work out of her mind.

The hand on her throat just wasn't working. Slowly, Misaki drew it over that little cleft where her collarbones met, further down her chest and over to the tip of one breast. She pinched her nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt to make it tighten. While her fingers worked, tugging and rolling the tight bud, she let her other hand trail across her mound and between her legs, imaging that her hand was Hei's. Gently, she stroked herself, the silky material of her lingerie growing slightly damp beneath her fingers.

Okay. This was working. Just one nice release, and she'd be able to fall asleep and be fresh for work in the morning.

Had Ootsuka remembered to turn in that report?

"Damn it," Misaki muttered in frustration, her hand falling to the mattress.

"Giving up so soon, Chief Kirihara? That isn't like you."

Her eyes snapped open at the low, cool voice. Heart pounding, she raised herself onto her elbows. A dark silhouette stood at the foot of her bed, his face and upper body entirely masked by shadow. One black-gloved hand rested lightly on a black-clad, firmly-muscled thigh.

"It would probably be easier if I had some help," she said in a breathy voice.

The shadowy figure didn't move. "You were doing fine on your own."

Misaki was grateful that the low light from the window would mask the burning flush in her cheeks. Did he really mean to just stand there and watch? While she…?

…while she got incredibly turned on by the very idea. She bit her lip to prevent herself from breaking out into a stupid grin. Reaching back, she plumped up her pillows so that she could lie back yet still be sitting up enough to keep her eyes on him.

She returned her hands to their previous positions, and began stroking herself once again, the sensations already ten times as strong as they had been before.

"Shirt," Hei ordered softly.

Misaki took the hem of her shirt and slowly raised it, baring first her midriff, then the rounded curves of her breasts - and stopped there, leaving her tips mostly covered. Idly she brushed the back of her fingers along the swells, teasing both him and herself. Her nipples were hardening as her hand played, and she moaned behind her lips at the touch of the cloth against her sensitized skin.

She didn't miss the way Hei's hand contracted against his thigh, seemingly of its own accord. The corner of her mouth quirked up, and arching her back slightly, she pulled the shirt off over her head. The touch of the cool air made her shudder; he let out an audible exhalation.

Lying back against her pillows, Misaki ran her hands over her breasts and down her ribs to trace the raised outlines of her hipbones. She briefly toyed with the lace on her panties, tucking her fingers under the hem, before moving to stroke her inner thighs instead.

Hei's breath caught. "Take them off," he said, his voice growing huskier.

Misaki wondered what he would do if she disobeyed; she could think of a number of ways that he could punish her that would be no punishment at all. But her arousal was building so quickly that waiting much longer was its own sort of torture. So she slid the lingerie off her hips, drawing her knees up to slide the silky garment to her ankles. Then keeping her feet placed closely together, she let her knees fall to either side, baring herself fully to him.

Hei stifled a moan of pleasure, and a movement caught Misaki's eye. She saw that he had unfastened his pants and now had his hard cock in his hand and was working it slowly.

Seeing him touch himself like that was somehow more intimate than anything that they'd done together, and she watched, fascinated, her own aching need nearly forgotten. Her mouth sagged open slightly at the remembrance of what he'd felt like, tasted like upon her tongue, and she couldn't stop a small whimper from escaping.

But more than ever she was mindful that his full attention was on _her_ , and she was suddenly determined that he should finish before she did.

She dipped a finger into her own wetness and began to stroke up and down, fighting the temptation to close her eyes and give in completely to the darts of pleasure that were racing through her blood. Then she accidentally brushed against her swollen bud and she gasped at the resulting burst of excitement.

Hei reacted visibly to her reaction, his pace abruptly picking up before steadying again. Misaki couldn't look at him anymore, it was too tantalizing. Her breath was coming in short, ragged pants, and she knew she wasn't going to last long. Time to cheat.

She ceased her stroking; making sure that her movements were obvious and well within his sight, she dipped a finger into her warm entrance then withdrew it, coated in silky fluid. Then she slowly trailed the finger up her body, pausing briefly to tease a nipple; and finally, staring wide-eyed at the shadows where she knew Hei's eyes to be, she tucked her fingertip into the corner of her mouth. The taste of her own salty musk touched her tongue and she made a small moan of pleasure.

Hei took a full step forward before he stopped himself. The movement brought the lower half of his face into the dim light; his jaw was clenched, his lips pressed tightly together, and the idea that perhaps he was playing the same game that she was was quickly lost in a sudden yearning to have his mouth on hers. On _any_ part of her.

Her hips bucked slightly at the thought; all hope of winning her game forgotten, Misaki returned her hand to between her legs and stroked her clit desperately while her other hand clenched at the sheet beside her. Her eyes drifted shut against the waves of pleasure, and all she could do was whisper, "Hei, please…"

He let out a strangled sound, and distantly she felt the mattress shift beneath her. Just as she reached her peak, Hei sank into her with a groan of relief. She clung to him as he pumped in and out; it wasn't long before he too reached his release; Misaki wove her fingers in his hair and held his head against her neck as he shuddered.

When he'd rolled off of her, Misaki tucked herself against his side and curled up. He was still fully clothed, but didn't seem to have the energy left over to undress. She didn't mind; the feeling of being naked while he wasn't was oddly comforting. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently kissed the sweat from her brow.

"I didn't actually think that I would see you tonight," Misaki murmured.

"I thought about going home; but I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep without seeing you."

She sighed softly, her eyes drifting shut. "Yeah. Me too."


	9. Office AU 4 - Flowers

_The Flowers_ has relocated to its own story as part of _The Office_ series.


	10. The Phone Call

**A/N** **:** Post-Distractions AU. Five years after the Tokyo Explosion, Hei returns to Tokyo and attempts to contact Misaki. _Not canon for Distractions!_ Just an idea that was bouncing around in my head.

* * *

Hei had been sitting on the bench for ten minutes before the bus arrived. A small crowd of people exited; a smaller crowd boarded. Hei stayed on the bench. The bus lingered half a minute longer than was necessary; when Hei didn't stand, the driver closed the door and pulled away, revealing once again the scene across the street. In particular, the pay phone.

He sighed in frustration and stared at the phone. It was just a phone. Why was the thought of walking up to it so much more terrifying than any contractor that he'd had to face?

At last, Hei stood. As soon as there was a break in the morning traffic, he walked briskly across the street and straight up to the phone. He dropped some coins into the slot, then dialed the number that he had memorized. On the other end, the line rang once before a woman's recorded voice answered.

"Thank you for calling the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, Public Security Bureau Division of Foreign Affairs. If you are calling to report a contractor-related incident, please press 'zero' now. For inquiries relating to the First Foreign Affairs Division, including anti-Russian, Eastern European, and Communist concerns, press 'one'. For inquiries relating to the Second Foreign Affairs Division, including anti-Chinese and North Korean concerns, please press 'two'."

Hei waited impatiently as the voice slowly ran through the list of departments until she reached "Fourth Foreign Affairs Division, including Contractor Relations". He pressed the number four.

"If you are an unregistered contractor who would like to register for a contractor ID, please press 'one'."

A number of countries had instituted contractor registries in the past few years; it was likely to become international policy soon. Hei was unregistered, and he had every intention of remaining that way.

"If you know the extension of the person you would like to speak to, please enter it now."

The voice explained several more options; none of them seemed like the right one. Hei had never had occasion to call or even visit Section Four before, but from everything that Misaki had said, it had sounded like a small department. Things must have changed.

When the menu had ended, the voice gave him the choice of listening to it again, or speaking with the operator. He chose the latter, and after several rings, a live human answered.

"Thank you for calling Foreign Affairs Section Four. How can I direct your call?"

"Um, may I speak with Director Kirihara, please?"

"What is your an access code?"

"Access code? Uh, I don't have an access code."

"I'm sorry, the Director doesn't take unsolicited calls. If you will state the reason for your call, I can connect you with the appropriate representative."

He should have realized that it wouldn't be as simple as just calling and asking for her. _I just want to say hello_. "I, uh, it's about what happened five years ago - at the Gate."

"Detective Saitou handles all matters pertaining to the Tokyo Explosion. Shall I transfer you to his assistant?"

"Saitou? Uh…" Hei wasn't sure if that would be a good idea or not. But before he could make a decision, another recorded voice interrupted.

"Your time has expired. If you would like to continue the call, please deposit an additional ten yen."

 _Damn it_. He hung up the phone and leaned against the metal cabinet. Sighing to himself, he fished some more coins from his pocket and deposited them into the phone.

"Thank you for calling the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, Public Security Bureau Division of Foreign Affairs. If you are calling to report a contractor-related incident, please press 'zero' now."

Hei jabbed the _zero_ button. The phone rang twice.

"Thank you for calling the Contractor Relations Contractor Hotline. Your call will be recorded, but you may remain anonymous if you choose. What is your location?"

"My location?" Hei asked dumbly; then he realized that the bored man's voice on the other end belonged to an actual person. "That doesn't matter; I need to speak with Director Kirihara."

"Do you have an access code?"

With difficulty, Hei resisted the urge to slam the receiver into the wall. "No. I don't have an access code."

"Director Kirihara doesn't take anonymous calls. However, I can file an incident report on your behalf; the Director reviews them all herself. Do you have a profile with us?"

"No." Well, he probably _did_ have some sort of profile in Section Four's files, but he didn't think that that was the type of profile the man was talking about.

"Very well. Are you a contractor or human?"

Technically…. "Human."

"Date of birth?"

"It's - um, hang on."

He pulled his wallet from his jean's pocket and flipped it open to his fake ID. He'd gotten it in a hurry and stupidly hadn't taken the time to memorize the essentials. But wait. He wanted to talk to Misaki, so he was calling as himself, so…should he give his actual birth date? "It's…huh. I…don't know."

Fifteen years of false identities, false names, and false birthdays. He knew the year that he had been born, but he couldn't state with any certainty what day, or even what month.

"Sir, I have other calls on hold. If you aren't going to take this seriously -"

"Look, will filling out your report get me in contact with Director Kirihara?"

"If you want to speak with the Director," the man said irritably, "you have to go through Contractor Relations. Set up a profile, and they will enter your request. It will go to the Director's office and her assistant will review it along with all of the other requests. If yours is deemed worth a callback, the Director's assistant will call you at the number you provide to set up an appointment."

Hei sighed. "Thanks," he said, and hung up the phone. He didn't _have_ a number to give out, except maybe this pay phone. And he wasn't going to camp out at the pay phone next door to Section Four's headquarters, hoping that Misaki's assistant would call him. What kind of a request would he list, anyway? _I_ _'m sorry that I left you the way that I did five years ago and you probably don't care anymore, but I'm in town again and I just wanted to see you and say hello if I could, but I don't want to give anyone else my name in case they decide to try and arrest me._

This would be so much easier if he could just go talk to her in person. But he was sure that he'd have even less luck walking into the building. He would go to her apartment, but she'd moved at some point and her new address was unlisted - even in the prefecture's records. He'd have to break into the police departments classified personnel files to get the information; but somehow he didn't think that Misaki would appreciate that effort.

He could follow her home from work. But if she drove, he wouldn't be able to keep up. Unless he stole a car, and - no. No stealing cars.

Another alternative was locating her Porsche (there was no doubt in his mind that she still drove that particular car) in the parking garage and waiting for her, then - no. He wasn't going to _stalk_ her like some lunatic. She'd probably shoot him before he could get a word out.

But he wasn't going to get anywhere with the phone. At least, not with the general PSB line.

Glancing up and down the street to make sure that no one was paying any particular attention to him, Hei stuffed his hands into his pockets and headed next door to the PSB headquarters building. But instead of going in, he walked past the entrance, turned the corner, and then turned into the alley behind the building. Two large dumpsters flanked a stairwell exit.

He hadn't been dumpster diving in years, and it had never been his favorite task; but still, it was one of the basics of espionage. Even in high security facilities, people just weren't careful about what they threw away. Hei pulled out the first black trash bag and went to work.

Half an hour later, he found a bag containing paperwork from Section Four's director's office; all nonconfidential, and none with any kind of phone number. However, there were also about three weeks' worth of receipts for nearly daily lunch deliveries, all from a sushi restaurant just a few blocks away. The name on all the receipts was _Aoyama_ , but the majority of the lunches ordered included tempura or some otherwise fried and greasy dish.

Hei checked his pockets: he had enough change left for two phone calls. He returned to the pay phone and dialed the restaurant.

"Hey, I've got that delivery for Aoyama," he said, holding the receiver well away from his face to allow the background traffic noise to help mask his voice. "But no one came down to the lobby to meet me, and I forgot to bring the contact number with me - what is it?"

"Renzo?" a confused voice replied. "I thought you took that order out twenty minutes ago."

"Yeah, like I said; there was no one in the office. Give me the number, and I'll call up so I can drop it off."

"Hang on. Okay, here it is…"

Hei committed the number to memory, then hung up. Inserting the last of his change, he dialed.

An unfamiliar woman answered. "Director Kirihara's office."

Hei exhaled in relief. "Uh, may I speak with Director Kirihara, please?"

Unlike the previous faceless voices he'd spoken with, this one sounded genuinely apologetic. "I'm sorry, the director is in meetings all day. Would you like to leave a message?"

 _Damn it_. "Um, no, that's okay; it'd be better if I spoke with her in person."

"I see," the woman said, a hint of disapproval in her voice. "Well, her calendar is booked solid for the next six weeks, but I can pencil you in for October. What is your affiliation?"

"Oh - what?"

"What is your affiliation? Which interest group do you represent?"

"I don't know what that means." Hei ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

Misaki's assistant sighed. "I take it you haven't been filtered through Contractor Relations then? Well, I've got a minute - let me get your profile. Human or contractor?"

"You mean, am I…?"

"Yes."

Great, not this question again. Which answer would be the most likely to get Misaki's attention? "Uh…"

"It's a simple enough question."

"Contractor, I guess?"

"You guess," the assistant said flatly.

"Sure. Contractor."

"Uh huh. Do you have a Messier code, by any chance?"

 _To hell with it then_. "BK-201."

His answer was met with silence on the other end of the line.

"Sorry, I probably shouldn't have called," Hei said. This had been the most pointless waste of time. "I'll try to catch her ano-"

"Please hold while I put you through."

There was a click; then bland, tinny music began to play. Hei stared at the phone in surprise.

~~~~o~~~~

"You know how I feel about that, Mr. Yokota," Misaki said levelly. "My opinion on the new policy hasn't changed in the last week, and won't change any time soon; not until you manage to draft a regulation that treats contractors like actual _people_. It's been five years since the Tokyo Explosion, we should be well past this by now."

She stared down the section chiefs; wisely, no one argued the point.

"Now if that's settled, let's move on to the report from Section Two." A buzz from the conference room phone interrupted her. Misaki glanced at the number; it was Aoyama's line. She picked up the receiver. "Yes, what is it?"

"I'm so sorry to interrupt, ma'am," her assistant said, "but I have a caller on your _through_ list."

"Who is it?" Misaki asked. All her section chiefs were here, and friends and family all had her cell number; had the superintendent disliked her proposal so much that he was going to demand an early meeting?

"He claims to be BK-201."

Misaki's heart nearly stopped. For a moment she was speechless; then, collecting herself, she hung up the phone. "Excuse me, gentlemen; I have to take this in private."

They all bowed their acknowledgments as she stood from the table and left the conference room. Aoyama met her outside her office.

"Are you sure?" Misaki asked quietly. "BK-201?"

Aoyama gave a small shrug. "That's what he said. We haven't had any prank callers pretending to be the Black Reaper in a long time - do you think this guy is the real deal?"

Misaki could tell that her assistant was attempting to hide her curiosity as to why an infamous contractor with a warrant out for his arrest was on her automatic _through_ list. The entire department had heard the story of the Tokyo Explosion: how BK-201 had changed sides, turned against the Syndicate, and spared the lives of thousands, if not millions of people. Most didn't believe it. And even if it was true, that didn't change the fact that he was wanted for questioning in a number of deaths during his time in Tokyo, that he had run and refused to turn himself in, and that he remained unregistered in any country.

"I have no idea," Misaki admitted, struggling to keep the hope from rising. "How - how did he sound?"

"I don't know. Confused, I guess."

She couldn't stop her smile. "That sounds like him. I'll take the call in my office."

Her assistant nodded and returned to her desk, while Misaki shut her office door and sat down at her own desk. After a moment, a little green light began blinking on her phone. She took a deep breath, then lifted the receiver and pressed the button for line one. "This is Director Kirihara."

~~~~o~~~~

Her voice sounded a bit odd at first, then Hei realized that he'd never actually spoken to her on the phone before. But it was her. It was really Misaki. He was almost too shocked to say anything.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Uh," Hei said, before she could hang up. Now that he actually had her on the line, he had no idea what to say. "Hi."

"Hei." Was that relief in her voice, or was he just imagining it?

"Um, I hope I'm not interrupting anything important?"

"Of course not! I mean, I was in a meeting, but these days I'm in meetings all the time. It's fine. Are you…are you back in town? Kanami said your star…"

"Oh. Yeah. I arrived last night."

"I see. How long are you staying?"

"I don't know."

"Oh."

He rubbed the back of his head in frustration. There were a million things that he wanted to say to her, but he had no idea how to start. He especially didn't know how to say them over the phone. "Yeah. Um, I guess…Misaki, I guess I just wanted to say -"

There was a click. Then a voice said, "Your time has expired. If you would like to continue the call, please deposit an additional ten yen."


	11. Office AU 2 - The First Day

_The First Day_ has relocated to its own story as part of _The Office_ series.


	12. MK-911

**AN:** Role-reversal AU, in which Misaki became a contractor through a method similar to Hei, whereas Hei joined the police.

* * *

The black-shrouded figure approached. There was something familiar about that step, about that line of the neck and long sweep of hair; but with the bone-white mask covering her face there was no way to tell for sure. Li raised his gun and aimed at the center of MK-911's chest. Behind him, the waitress gave a tiny frightened gasp. There was no sound from Saitou, who was still collapsed on the floor; Li hoped desperately that a concussion was the worst of his partner's injuries.

MK-911 halted, but didn't back down.

"You don't want to do this," Li tried, tightening his grip on his gun. "I don't care who you're working for or why they want to hurt this girl. It's not her fault that her father got into business with the wrong people; she's just doing her best to help him. And it's my job to protect her."

The contractor listened, seemingly impassive; Li wished that she would take off that mask.

"You were human once," he continued. "Didn't you have a father? Or someone you would do anything to protect?"

He couldn't be sure, but hope kindled in his heart as something in MK-911's posture changed.

~~~~o~~~~

Misaki regarded the police detective disinterestedly. Humans would persist in talking when there was work to be done. Yes, she'd had a father once. Now he was gone. Nothing mattered except the job.

This guy knew how to hold a gun; but she doubted that he'd ever fired at a living person before. His eyes were far too soft.

She lunged forward. The detective stood his ground and fired, those soft eyes wide; the bullet deflected from her trenchcoat and before the man could react, Misaki had grabbed his throat and released her power. He collapsed in a lifeless heap.

It was really too bad, she thought as she pulled out her knife and caught hold of the crying girl's hair. He had been rather good-looking.


	13. ItDN: The Morning After pt 3

**AN:** Outtake #3 from _Into the Dark Night_ ; directly follows outtake #2 (chapter 6 here).

 **Content warning:** Death.

* * *

They'd probably just gone up to the country for the weekend, Hong told himself. It was the only explanation that made any sense. Even if they had just spent last weekend there. And neglected to tell anyone that they were leaving again.

It was an easy four blocks to the Li family's apartment building. Unfortunately, Hong was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't realize that his route would take him past Hon's barber shop until he was already upon it. The windows were dark behind tightly-closed curtains, and a faded "Closed" sign hung on the door. There was a dull red stain on the sidewalk just outside the entrance; Hong stepped uneasily around it.

All was peaceful when he reached the apartment building. The streets were empty of children; but then, it was mid-morning on a Friday, and all but the youngest would be in school, and parents were keeping a closer eye on them than usual these days.

An elderly woman with her hair still in rollers was sitting on the lowest step of the staircase, smoking a cigarette. Hong excused himself politely and squeezed around her. The woman ignored him.

When he reached the third floor, the corridor stretched away ahead of him, looking longer than it usually did. Hong found himself momentarily frozen on the landing; then he took a mental breath. Everything was fine; the kids had been running late, and An had forgotten to call the hospital and let them know that she wouldn't be on time. They left the apartment by the time the school and Yafang had called. That was all.

He strode purposefully down to the second-to-last door. The window was shuttered, and no light was shining through the cracks. He knocked on the door, and waited. There was no answer. Hong peered through a crack in the shutter; the interior was too dark to make out much beyond an indistinct shape lying on the floor in the center of the room. Perhaps Xinkun had been tinkering with that telescope of his and left it out. Though it looked a bit too big for that. Laundry, maybe?

He knocked again, this time loud enough that anyone who was asleep in one of the bedrooms ought to hear. There was still no answer.

 _See_ , he told himself, _no one's home. You're letting your emotions get the better of your common sense_.

Still, he had better make sure, if only to put Yafang's mind at ease. An always kept a spare key beneath the bamboo doormat for when the kids got home before her, or in case of emergencies. The mat was sitting at an odd angle, as if it had been accidentally kicked aside or hastily replaced; but the key was there. Hong unlocked the door and went in, flicking on the lights.

His sister and her husband were lying on the floor, unmoving. Hong stared, uncomprehending, for a full minute before the reality sunk in. Then a wave of nausea hit him so hard that he barely made it back out the door before vomiting in the corridor. As he stood, doubled-over and shaking and trying to suppress another rise of bile, his mind tried to offer any explanation but the truth - they were asleep; they were just ill, and too weak to move - but he couldn't deny it.

He'd left the door wide open; anyone could just walk in. Hong staggered back into the apartment and shut the door behind him before going to the kitchen to rinse his mouth. He splashed his face with the cold water for good measure.

It was only after the initial shock had worn off that he remembered the kids.

"Xing!" he called in a hoarse whisper as he ran to their bedroom. "Tian!"

The bedroom door was open. The room was a mess: schoolbooks, papers, and clothes were scattered across the floor. Was it normally like that? He couldn't remember. Their beds were empty, but the window was open. Hong stepped over to it and looked out - nothing. He stooped to peer under the beds, but there was nothing their either except for a few mislaid toys.

He tried his sister's room next. Her room was tidy, the bed neatly made - but it was just as empty. So was Xinkun's office; so was the tiny bathroom. He even looked through all of the kitchen cabinets, even the ones too small for a child Xing's size to squeeze into, before he could admit to himself that they just weren't there.

Slowly, he stepped back into the main room, now unable to take his eyes off of the bodies of his sister and brother-in-law.

Xinkun had died first, it seemed. He lay on his back; there such a look of shock and horror on his face, eyes staring blindly at the ceiling, but Hong couldn't tell if that had been his reaction to death or if…or if that was just what faces did after the life had fled from them. An was draped across her husband's chest - protecting him, Hong was sure.

Neither of them had any sort of wound or mark that he could see. Except for An: climbing up her from beneath the collar of her scrubs, from her shoulder, up her neck, and finally spreading across her cheek, was an oddly fern-like, branching scar, an angry red against her too-pale skin.

The phone was on the wall next to kitchen. Hong reached behind him and lifted the receiver. He fumbled it at first; when he managed to get a good drip, he dialed home. His father answered on the first ring.

"It's me," Hong said dully. "I'm at the apartment."

"Is anyone there?"

"I can't find the kids anywhere; I've searched every place that I could think of." He hadn't checked with the neighbors; maybe they had been frightened and had run next door.

"An and Xinkun?" his father said quietly.

Hong squeezed his eyes shut. "They're here. Dad, don't -"

There was a clicked as his father hung up the phone.


	14. Office AU 5 - Two Shots of Tequila

_Two Shots of Tequila_ has relocated to its own story as part of _The Office_ series.


	15. The Aquarium

"The Aquarium" has moved to its own story, as _Distractions_ installment #7 - find it on my profile page!


	16. Rain

Lightning cracked overhead as Misaki trotted down the poorly-lit street back to her car. It looked like the rain was about to start any moment; she probably shouldn't have taken this detour to the convenience store, but it was going to be a long night at the warehouse crime scene, and the others had already been there for a couple of hours. She was sure they'd be hungry by now.

Her car was a couple of blocks from the store - parking in this city was awful - but she reached it at last. Balancing the tray of coffees and plastic bag of snacks in one hand, she reached into her pocket for her keys with the other.

And came up empty.

 _You have got to be kidding me_ , she thought, and peered through the window. It took a moment to see around the glare of the street lights, but once she'd found a good angle, she saw her keys very clearly sitting on the passenger seat. Behind a very clearly locked door. _Shit_.

She set her purchases on top of the car and pulled out her phone. As she did, thunder rumbled again and huge drops of rain splattered onto the car roof. A moment later, the downpour broke loose. Wishing that she'd at least grabbed her umbrella, Misaki tucked the phone back into her pocket, snatched up the tray and bag, and darted down the street. There had to be some place she could shelter from the rain so she could call Saitou to come pick her up; but there were only tall, lightless apartment buildings in this section.

The mouth of a narrow alleyway between two buildings loomed up suddenly; she ducked into it, thinking to take a shortcut back to the convenience store. Rain poured down the gutters and emptied into the alley; Misaki's feet splashed through an ever-deepening rivulet of dirty rainwater. Her shoes were getting soaked, and she could hardly see through her spotted lenses.

Then she spied a shadowy, covered alcove on her left and darted in with relief. It was dark and a bit shallow - some kind of delivery entrance - but it was dry. With an annoyed sigh, she set her things down on an upturned crate and found a dry corner of her shirt to clean her glasses with. Then she fished out her phone. The screen was black. She pressed the power button: nothing. "Damn it," she muttered, and shoved the phone back into her pocket. She'd just have to wait for the rain to let up, then go back to the convenience store and call Saitou from there.

She was in the process of removing her suit jacket to attempt to wring it dry when a slight movement to her left caught her eye; she squinted into the shadows, the hairs raising on the back of her neck. What was - then she saw it: a faint reflection of light from a chalky white face. She froze.

The Black Reaper was crammed into the other corner of the doorway, a bare two feet away.

 _Shit shit shit_. Her impulse was to reach for her weapon, but she realized with a panicked start that it was still in her car. No gun, no phone, not even her handcuffs - should she make a run for it? She'd seen him move before; he was fast. She might not be able to even make it out of the doorway alive. Make that definitely not - her arms were still tangled in the sleeves of her jacket. Maybe if she managed to surprise him; but obviously he'd seen her dart in. He'd be watching for her to try something.

He was watching her now, his expressionless mask angled in her direction. She stared back, her heart pounding - and he turned his head look out into the alley, leaning back against the metal door. Ignoring her.

Misaki gaped, momentarily torn between relief that he wasn't interested in killing her, and annoyance that he apparently didn't consider her dangerous enough _to_ kill. At last, she settled for finishing the removal of her jacket, then folded it in her arms and leaned against the door herself, as if sharing doorways with known killers in her shirtsleeves was something that she did every day.

The rain poured on, showing no sign of slowing or letting up. Misaki glanced from time to time at her silent companion, her heart in her throat, but never saw him so much as twitch a muscle. At least, not until she leaned down to pick up her cup of black coffee from the tray. His whole body tensed subtly at her movement; but when she straightened, coffee in hand, he relaxed again, still looking away.

A bead of rainwater dripped from a lock of his lank black hair to roll down the exposed skin of his neck and under his collar. Misaki watched it, and the next drop, then tore her gaze away to focus on her coffee. She sipped gratefully. It was hot, but the others would likely be cold by the time she reached the crime scene. Which she needed to get to. Tapping her foot impatiently, she checked her phone again. Still dead, of course.

The Black Reaper was watching her again. "My phone died," she told him, just in case he was worried that she was sending a message for help, and showed him the blank screen. Unsurprisingly, he didn't reply, but continued to stare as if expecting more. "And I locked my keys in my car," she admitted with a grudging sigh.

At the latter statement, his shoulders twitched slightly. Misaki narrowed her eyes. "You'd better not be laughing at me."

His movement stopped, and his shoulders straightened.

"That's what I thought," she said, fighting a ridiculous urge to smile.

Several more minutes passed, but somehow now they felt companionable, rather than tense. Her stomach gave a little gurgle, and she debated whether she ought to break into her snacks yet or not. Then a gurgling loud enough to be heard over the pounding rain made her jump. She turned towards her neighbor; his shoulders were hunched and he was looking away, as if embarrassed. This time she couldn't stop her smile.

Bending down, she retrieved the plastic bag and dug through the contents. Meat buns for Saitou, Swedish fish for Kouno, an apple and banana for Matsumoto. She pulled out one of the two boxes of chocolate pocky and held it out. "Here."

He stared at the pocky. Or at least, she assumed he was staring, as she couldn't actually see his eyes. "Take it," she ordered. "I can hear your stomach growling from here."

Slowly, he reached for the box and took it from her, taking obvious care not to brush her fingers with his black glove. The thought of what one touch from such a dangerous contractor could do sent a small shiver down her spine, but she didn't flinch away.

He looked down at the pocky in his gloved hand. Belatedly, Misaki realized that in order to eat the snack, he'd have to take off his mask. "You can, um, eat it later," she said.

He nodded slightly, and tucked the package into his jacket, baring for a brief moment the metallic flash of a knife hilt. This time she did shudder, and occupied herself in opening the other box of pocky.

The rain slowed to a trickle about ten minutes later, during which time neither of them said anything more. Misaki kept her gaze fixed studiously into the alley while she chewed the chocolate-coated biscuits; she didn't know what he was watching, or if he was even paying any attention to her at all.

When at last the drumming on the dumpster across the way became a faint tapping, Misaki stepped cautiously out of the alcove and held up her hand; it was definitely light enough to head over to the convenience store now. "Looks like the rain has -" she began, turning back - only to find the alcove behind her was empty. "...stopped."

There was no sign that another person had even been there. She didn't know why she was disappointed - after all, she was lucky to even be alive - but she _was_ disappointed. _Don't be an idiot_ , she told herself as she picked up her bag and tray of now-cold coffee. _It's not like you'll never run into him again; and next time, you won't lock your gun in the god damned car._

She exited the alleyway the same way that she had entered, deciding that it would be best to not appear as if she was following him - for he must have left in the opposite direction. Glancing down the street out of habitual paranoia to make sure that her car was still where she had left it, she saw with a start that someone was standing next to the driver's door.

It was BK-201.

"What are you -" But as she watched, a blue spark of electricity leapt from his fingertips and into the door. "Hey!" Misaki dashed as fast as she could down the wet sidewalk without dropping the coffee tray, but he had darted away before she'd even come close. She slowed to a halt, gazing down the misty street. His shadowy shape flitted around a corner, and he was gone.

She turned back to her car: the electric door lock had been tripped. "Oh," she said, though there was no one there to hear. "Um, thanks."

Tossing the bag and her soaking jacket onto the passenger seat, she snatched up her keys and locked the car again, then headed back down the street to pick up some fresh coffee.


	17. Office AU 6 - The Hangover

_The Hangover_ has relocated to its own story as part of _The Office_ series.


	18. Office AU 3 - The Umbrella

_The Umbrella_ has relocated to its own story as part of _The Office_ series.


	19. Office AU 7 - The Confession

_The Confession_ has relocated to its own story as part of _The Office_ series.


	20. Office AU 8 - The Gym

_The Gym_ has relocated to its own story as part of _The Office_ series.


	21. Office AU 1 - The Interview

_The Interview_ has relocated to its own story as part of _The Office_ series.


	22. The Shoot

_The Shoot_ has relocated to its own story as part of _The Office_ series.


End file.
